Like Ark, his voice is deeper, the rumble of a powerful alpha. But it makes me want to turn and bolt into his arms for a whole different reason.Please, Samson. Please fight for me the way our mom never will.
“She’s nearly eighteen,” Ark says quietly. “She’s old enough for a lot of shit that we don’t want to happen.”
“You think that’s news to me?” Samson growls, then I hear his boots shuffle, his explosive sigh plucking at my raw nerves. “Fuck. You okay, Abbie?”
I turn slowly, flinching at the look of defeat on my brother’s face. We have our mom’s hazel eyes and brown hair, although his golden highlights come from the desert sun and not the bottle of dye I stole from one of the sweetbutts. “Don’t let them throw me out, Samson.”
“Nothing’s forever, Baby Bee.”
I flinch at the nickname our dad gave me when I was little. “Turning your back on me is.”
“Jesus.” Samson rubs his eyes, his woodsmoke scent turning sour as he looks at Ark. “Can't you talk to your old man?”
“You know he won't listen. Besides, I already tried.”
I look at Ark, wide-eyed. “You did?”
“I could smell her two days ago,” he goes on, staring at my brother like I’m not right in front of them. “It’s why the ride was put forward. I’ve been watching the clock ever since.”
One of Booker’s friends is the Iron Flyers’ Road Captain, responsible for planning and managing the club’s rides, but everyone knows it’s Ark who does all the work. He’s probably the only one who could have gotten them out of the clubhouse ahead of schedule, and I feel a rush of gratitude. He’s bought me time to fix this situation before the council members return.
“Just send me to the Restaway, then.” The old motel is one of the club’s legitimate businesses and is where they send anyone they want to keep close, but not inside the compound walls. “I’ll get better and then come back before they do. No one will even know I was gone. Plus, I can take the pills every day…”
I scramble for the box of suppressants, but I catch a hint of bruised rose petals and look hopefully at the door. “Mom…”
She’s in a bathrobe, but that’s nothing unusual, since she rarely leaves our suite these days. But my hope drains away as she cinches the belt tighter around her narrow waist and avoids my gaze. “It’s for the best, honey. You'll be safe at the boardinghouse. There are other girls from the club there, and when Booker finds you a mate, you can come home.”
I swallow, but it still feels like there’s a noose around my neck. “I don’t want one of Booker’s old friends!” Everyone knows that as soon as omegas turn eighteen, he hands the unclaimed ones off to an alpha he owes money to, or someone he wants a favor from. “I want Wings!” I back away from my mom, hating the quiver of fear in my voice. “I want to stay here with him.”
My mom shakes her head, looking over her shoulder at Patch, the club’s medic. He was my dad’s best friend, and I’ve always thought he was the kindest alpha in the club, even if he can’t always shield us from everything. As he steps towards me, there are tiny cracks around his eyes, like his smile is slowly falling to pieces.
“Patch!” I implore, trying to back away again, but I come up hard against Ark’s chest. I turn towards him, another plea on my lips, but I feel the sting in my neck before I can open my mouth.
I know what it means. We’ve all seen Patch sedate people in the club, but I never thought he’d do it tome. I cling to Ark’s arms, my vision blurring as Samson’s soft leather jacket is draped around my shoulders. I flinch, wanting to fling it off, but what if that’s the only thing they let me take with me? I blink through my tears, Ark’s face a dark halo above me. “Please don’t send me away.”
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “It’s the only way to keep you safe.”
Behind me, I can hear Wings cursing and fighting, but Samson is holding him back, the strain barely showing on my brother’s alpha frame.All that strength, I think as the world narrows, blotting them out,and not a speck to give to me.
As Ark sweeps me into his arms, my heart gives a pathetic thump, but he’s not saving me. He’s just carrying me to the door. My brother’s jacket covers me like a blanket, but it’s Ark’s scent in my nose, so potent it makes my stomach burn. “I hate you, Ark.”
“It’s not forever, butterfly.”
“It is to me.”
I don’t know who can hear me, whether Wings is still struggling against my brother’s strength, or if Patch is following behind us, trying to offer some last comfort before I’m tossed into the street. But it’s Ark who’s all around me, his stony face the last thing I see as the world winks out.
Chapter One: ABBIE
5 Years Later
“You can’t kick me out yet,” the omega lying in the hospital bed complains, his bruised lips pushed into a pout. “What’s so important that you have to rush off, anyway?”
This is the third time that Damien Cortland has been admitted to urgent care seeking the help of a heat therapist. Some patients arrive too dazed and in pain to know what day it is, but Damien always drives himself to the clinic and requests my services, often waiting a couple of hours until I can see him. He hasn’t had a companion-aided heat for three years, and in the past, has spent his most vulnerable moments either drunk or high. Anything to block out the memory of the alpha who put the broken claiming bite on his neck.
“You know I’ve got other patients to see.” I reach out to push his sweaty curls off his forehead, because the line between physical intimacy and healing is a little more blurred with heat recovery. In clinical terms, he’s reached the point where he could venture back into the courting scene, returning to the eternal dance of eligible alphas seeking compatible omegas. But Damien is strong-willed, emotional, and, despite the trauma that hasbrought us together, a romantic at heart.
“But I don’t want this to end. I want you to come home with me.”
